


The Object of Our Affection

by ExaltedBrand



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Genei Ibun Roku #FE | Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE
Genre: A Debatable Amount of Plot, Corruption, Dreamsharing, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Finger Sucking, French Kissing, Group Sex, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Kissing, Making Out, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Porn With Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Stress Relief, Telepathic Bond, Threesome - F/F/F, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExaltedBrand/pseuds/ExaltedBrand
Summary: As Mirage and Mirage Master, Tharja and Kiria’s hearts are one. The arrangement comes with a few side effects.
Relationships: Kurono Kiria/My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Kurono Kiria/Tharja, My Unit | Reflet | Robin/Sallya | Tharja
Comments: 17
Kudos: 18





	1. A Shared Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing suggestion from VioletBlade

“Robin? The smart-looking one with the robes?” Kiria, perched on the end of her bed, glanced back at Tharja. “You’ll have to be more specific. There’s no shortage of them here.”

“Oh,” Tharja purred, “but that’s the joy of this place, isn’t it? There’s more than one to choose from. More than one dear, darling Robin to look after, to adore… to pay such close, close attention to.”

Drifting across the bed from behind her, illuminated only by the dull, flickering candlelight Kiria still hadn’t gotten used to, the Mirage’s hands curled around her shoulders, drawing close and whispering in her ear.

“It’s simply a matter of preference.”

“And what makes you think I’m interested?” Kiria said sharply. “We were brought here to help this kingdom, not… chase after your creepy obsessions. It’s all well and good getting to know the people we’ll be working with – but your idea of ‘spending time’ with them to unwind? It’s basically just stalking. Or worse, when you start getting magic involved.”

“Kiria, darling… You wound me. I only want you to relax; have a bit of fun. And there’s nothing quite like a night in Robin’s company… whether they realise you’re there or not.” The hands on her shoulders tightened ever so slightly. “These slave drivers in the Order of Heroes have been working your adorable little self to the bone lately. You deserve some release. Something to loosen all this… tension inside you.”

“What can I say? It’s been busy.” She put a hand on Tharja’s, not quite pushing her away. “That’s no excuse to cut loose, though; not when everyone else in Fortuna is giving all this Order of Heroes stuff their all.”

“On the contrary, none of them have been working as hard as you. It’s positively sickening, in fact – seeing the one and only Kiria forced to toil in such menial labour. An idol as talented as you ought to be treated with some _respect_.”

The last word hissed with vitriol, and Kiria felt a jolt of pain as Tharja’s grip intensified – then the Mirage relaxed, letting out a sigh.

“But I digress,” she said. “Which one’s your type?”

“My what?”

“Robin. The man, or the woman? Oh, they’re both perfect to me… but I’m curious how you feel. We both know you’re a girl of surprises, after all…”

“T-that’s…” Kiria stammered. “I hardly know them. Any of them. There’s the boy one, the girl one, the swimsuit one, the Santa one, the creepy ones, the – the _jelly_ one…?”

Tharja chuckled in her ear. “My, my. For someone ‘not interested’, you’re quite the Robin expert. I’m almost jealous… If you weren’t my lovely Kiria, I might have even considered you a threat.”

“Expert? H-hardly.” Kiria’s hand slipped away, and she sat up straight. “It’s just – when there’s five or six of the same person walking around, you tend to notice. And Robin’s not the only one with doppelgangers walking around, _Tharja_.”

“Ah, those other versions of me? Pay no mind to them. They’re mere imitations; distractions vying for Robin’s precious attention. You and I together are so much more than them.” Tharja’s arms slipped around Kiria, the soft velvet of her cloak brushing the idol’s neck. “You still haven’t answered my question. If we put aside all those pesky extra details for a moment… which of the two Robins do you prefer?”

Kiria gulped, shivering slightly as the Mirage’s icy breath tickled her skin. “Prefer… how?”

“Well, they’re identical in most aspects: their personalities, their intelligence, their daily routines, the average numbers of times they toss and turn in bed in every night… so there’s only one thing that sets them apart. Which one of them draws you in the most? Which sets your heart aflame and makes you want to hold them tight; to ravish them in affection and care?”

“Making a lot of assumptions, aren’t you?” Kiria said. “They’re just allies to me. Sure, we’ve fought a couple of battles together, and they’re all pretty good – but I could say the same and more for Tsubasa, or Itsuki, and there’s nothing like the feelings you’re describing for Robin going on between me and _them_.”

“Oh?” She heard Tharja’s smile curl into a grin. “Not even Itsuki?”

Her voice caught in her throat. “T-that’s—”

Tharja giggled. “Just teasing, dear. But it’s not so simple. The two of us are bound, you know. We share our power, yes – but that’s not all we share. Just as your thoughts and feelings when you perform can bleed over into my heart, so too can… well, I suppose you’ll understand soon enough.”

As usual, Tharja had a penchant for being ominously vague. But Kiria couldn’t make any sense of it. Sure, she had a lot of respect for Robin’s—or the Robins’—skills and strategic minds; sure, she was comfortable trusting them in battles, save for the weird, evil ones both calling themselves the Fell Dragon or some nonsense; and sure, they were pretty easy on the eyes – the guy had a cool, responsible air that reminded her of Itsuki, while the girl had those charming little twintails that Kiria just wanted to wrap up in her fingers and gently tug.

But there was no attraction there. Nothing to suggest it at all.

The arms around her slid lower, tracing her bare stomach.

“I’m still waiting,” Tharja whispered. “I know it can be difficult to decide – they do so both have their charms, don’t they? The male Robin is handsome, professional, in control… One would think he was a perfect match for the ‘cool beauty’. I know I certainly can’t resist him. But we both know what you really prefer.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Kiria said, but she felt herself instinctually nestling into Tharja’s embrace.

“You should be more honest with yourself, sweet Kiria. More open. You’re not really interested in the stoic, serious type. Given the opportunity, you’d much rather go for the girl: squeeze her red, round cheeks; run your hands down that cute, delicate body of hers; hear her squeak and squeal so adorably as your fingers—”

“T-Tharja! Seriously…!”

Kiria’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She wanted to deny Tharja with more force; to stand up and spin around, to look her dead in the eyes—or the mask, at least—and tell her she was wrong.

So why didn’t she?

Another chuckle, low and sensual. “I’m very serious. If you wanted, I could cast a hex to make her like putty in your hands… You could have her wear the cutest dresses, admire her from every angle, make her indulge your deepest desires… Hee hee… I’m shivering just thinking about it…!”

“That’s enough. So maybe I am a little stressed – fine, whatever. There’s been a lot on my plate since all of us arrived here. We’re fighting every day, there’s barely any time to write lyrics, and there’s nowhere great to practice. But I’m not gonna have you hex a girl I barely know just so you can sit back and watch me do… do whatever you’re suggesting for ‘stress relief’. That’s gross, even for you.”

“Gross?” Tharja gasped, putting on an air of mock offense that sent a strange tingle through Kiria. “Darling, you flatter me. But very well. I can see you’re insistent… and I know better than to push my luck when you’re pouting so adorably. I suppose I’ll just have to relieve your stress… the usual way.”

Kiria shuddered as the fingers beneath Tharja’s ever-flowing sleeves slipped into the tight leather of her leggings and stroked against her most intimate of areas. She bit her lip to stifle her first reaction, then gave in to a long, low moan as the Mirage’s slender fingers began to work their magic, comforting and caressing her in all the right ways.

“Oh, but you enjoy it when I do this to you, don’t you?” Tharja crooned, her lips gently kissing up and down the side of Kiria’s neck. “The way you respond so eagerly; the way you ache for release… It’s all so delicious. Now imagine how sweet, adorable Robin would look in your place, in _your_ arms – how she’d shake and squirm under your touch, whimpering your name. Worshipping it. Worshipping the great Kiria. Wouldn’t that just be the cutest thing in this whole wide, ugly world?”

For a moment—whether by Tharja’s thoughts filtering into her head or by her own imagination—Kiria saw it. She saw the tactician pressed over a desk, pants pulled down to her ankles; she saw her own hands moving, touching and squeezing every inch of the other girl; and she saw the adorable, desperate way she begged for more, hair dishevelled and mouth gaping wide.

Then, just as suddenly as it had formed, the image shattered, and Kiria found herself back in reality, writhing in ecstacy as her partner continued to work. Tharja’s hands moved in ways both tender and tantalizing, comforting and enticing; and Kiria felt her senses slip away with every rub of the Mirage’s fingers, each strand of saliva left on her neck. Her cheeks burned, and her body trembled with delight.

“Th-Tharja…”

“There, there, my lovely master,” Tharja whispered, holding her close. “You’re safe with me. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

Gently, effortlessly, Tharja brought her to completion. Pleasure rocked through Kiria’s body, a spasm of bliss and release wracking her senses and leaving her limp in Tharja’s arms – and then, already, it was over.

“Nngh… Tharja…”

The feeling had been brief. So agonisingly brief.

“But you don’t need to imagine, my dear,” the dark mage murmured, slowly pulling her fingers out of Kiria and running her purple tongue along them. “Just say the word—one little word—and I can make it all come true. I can make her your number one fan. I could get inside that cute little head of hers and make her do such wicked, dirty things…”

“I… No,” Kiria managed. “No, that’s perverted. That’s wrong.”

“Is it? Is it really? Did you feel any disgust when you saw it…?” Tharja’s fingers drifted over her neck, cupping her chin. “Or perhaps you felt a longing…? A desire? Perhaps, deep down, you loved seeing just how delightful Robin looked presenting herself to you… pleading for the famous Kiria to let her finish.”

“That’s not what happened,” Kiria protested, even as she felt her face burn at the thought. It was an image that had come at the height of her passion; one that made no sense, that was ridiculous. Outside of battle, she’d hardly interacted with Robin – with any Robin. These were Tharja’s desires, not hers. They weren’t worth thinking about.

But she couldn’t help herself.

Tharja laughed – a deep, dark laugh that quickly turned sinister. In an instant, she drew close to Kiria’s ear. “Let me do this for you. Let me cast my hex. I want you to have her, Kiria – to make her all yours. No-one else deserves her but you. Why, if someone else were to run their filthy, diseased hands all over her body before you, my other selves included… I might just rip their _tongues_ out!”

The Mirage snarled so suddenly that Kiria flinched, pushing back into the pillows. Then it was over, and Tharja’s lips turned upwards again in the semblance of a smile.

“But with you…? Hee hee hee… She’d be in perfect hands. She’d be your personal toy, so helpless under your touch. An obedient servant to your desires. So perfect. So yours. So… _mine_.”

Kiria felt her heart racing, her back soaked with sweat, her stomach twisting.

Was it fear? Disgust? Or was it something else?

“Kiria… I want you to embrace your desires. I want you to reach that peak again—the height of stardom, the height of pleasure—and keep climbing. Cling to that feeling; let it fill you up. Let it take you higher than ever before… You only need to say yes. Nod—just nod—and I’ll give you the night of your life. The night of _our_ lives, Kiria…”

A wicked grin played across Tharja’s lips.

“All I’d ask,” she said, “is that you let me watch… and maybe, just maybe, join in a little bit too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mirages might operate under a different continuity to their FE counterparts, but Tharja's thirst for Robin in all their forms is eternal.
> 
> Probably looking at two parts total for this one, but I've left it open just in case.


	2. A Dark Mage’s Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter the circumstances, Kiria realises that Tharja always gets what she wants.

It had been almost a month since that night. A month since Tharja had told Kiria all about Robin; a month since Tharja had raised the possibility of hexing Robin; a month since Tharja had, in as blunt terms as possible, offered Robin to her.

Kiria had refused, of course – in no uncertain terms. The very idea had been immoral, inexcusable. Bending someone else to her will—especially for reasons as depraved as Tharja’s—was no better than what all the evil Mirages in the Idolaspheres were doing; what she and the rest of Fortuna Entertainment had spent so long now fighting against.

But her objections ran deeper than the obvious immorality of the idea. As an idol, she’d clawed her way up from nothing, singing her heart out and enduring failure after failure in the earliest days of her career to become the star she was now. Each fan of hers was to be treasured – someone willingly cheering her on, supporting her through every performance, being moved or inspired by her songs.

A ’fan’ created through magic—through manipulation and mind control—was wrong. There was no real affection, no real feeling. If a singer or songwriter could make their audience feel a desired emotion with the wave of their hand, without putting in the slightest effort, then what good was song as an artform at all? What was the value in creativity or expression? What was the point of anything she’d ever done in her life?

It made a mockery of everything she stood for. A mockery of her entire career. Even if Tharja’s obsessions had always swung from gross to outright disturbing, the Mirage should at least have understood her objections.

And yet, every night—like she herself had fallen victim to one of Tharja’s hexes—she found herself having strange dreams about Robin. Dreams in which she did things she’d never thought herself capable of.

Some of them started innocuously. It was these dreams that Kiria grown the most anxious over – the ones where she didn’t realise they were focused on Robin until the moment, like a switch being flipped, where everything changed. They could be a day at the beach with the rest of Fortuna, or a strategy meeting, or a round of patrols. Often, the scenarios were so convincing that she found herself questioning the details long into the day: whether there really was a battle set for tomorrow, or whether she really had already taken patrols for that week.

Invariably—inevitably, as if Tharja had grown bored of setting the scene—the dreams would take bizarre, jarring turns. At the beach, Robin would ask Kiria inside for help with her swimsuit, only to be naked and eagerly eating her out minutes later. In strategy meetings, Robin would start fingering Kiria under the table, even in the presence of half a dozen other heroes or everyone from Fortuna. During patrols, Robin would suddenly stop mid-sentence and bend herself over the castle battlements, begging Kiria to take her there and then. And on and on it went, a storm of completely incoherent lust and debauchery that she couldn’t help but take part in.

At the other end of the spectrum, there were the dreams without pretence. The dreams where Kiria had already taken Robin as her lover, her slave, her submissive; where she made Robin touch her, kiss her, fondle her, service her in ways she could never have come up with herself, that only Tharja could have concocted for her.

She’d told Tharja that this wasn’t what she wanted. That this wasn’t who she was. That she hardly even knew this girl.

But the dreams persisted, even as she tried to ignore them. They grew more and more intense every night. There were dreams where Robin begged for her and called out her name; dreams where Kiria was dressed in leather, taking charge of Robin and ordering her about with a whip; dreams where she had Robin on all fours as she drove a strap-on into her from behind; even dreams where Kiria herself was being forced to submit to a delightfully assertive Robin. Sometimes, Tharja would join her – cackling under her breath, taking in the sights from a distance before finally hovering over to join them at their peak.

And then, when Kiria woke up from those dreams—drenched with sweat, the sheets twisted around her legs—she’d find herself so unbearably pent up that all she could think to do was touch herself as she recalled every last detail.

Tharja, as expected, feigned innocence. She only pointed to the dreams as tell-tale signs of Kiria’s own love for Robin, and all the while the ‘relief’ she provided the girl every so often for her work in the Order, as she’d done on that night a month ago, drew purposefully shorter and less satisfying.

Her intent was obvious. But Kiria refused to be swayed.

Yes, Robin was cute, and sweet, and kind, and really quite stunning when she let her hair down. Yes, the thought of pushing her against a wall and kissing her, tasting her peach-flavoured lips and feeling her hands curl around her shoulders, holding on for dear life, was definitely appealing. And yes, the thought of Robin naked, her skin warm and smooth and waiting to be explored; of her slim legs waiting to be spread; of driving one finger and then two inside her; of taking her from behind like she had in her dream and just pounding into her until she begged for release; of holding her down and touching her all over until she screamed in ecstasy – all wasn’t without its allure.

But she wasn’t going to pay any mind to the dreams; to the fantasies Tharja had crafted especially for her with such love and care.

And she certainly wasn’t going to let them have any influence on her mind.

* * *

The very next day, without warning, Kiria was summoned to the castle’s war room for a strategic meeting with Robin.

For the whole walk there, she was half-convinced she was in another dream. A twisted little scenario concocted for Tharja’s amusement, where some small detail would eventually slip and reveal the dark mage’s perverse mind. It was a natural suspicion, as far as Kiria was concerned. Everything about the situation—both the summons, and the one summoning her—was too convenient. For one thing, it had been out of the blue, entirely unprompted. She and Robin hadn’t fought together for over a month now, so the tactician’s sudden interest in Kiria felt unnatural, to say the least. But more suspicious still was that it was _her_ Robin. Not the male Robin, or the creepy, possessed ones, but the very same girl she’d laid eyes on so many times as she slept, her hands and mouth exploring every inch of her supple—

 _Enough, Tharja_ , she thought. _At least let me keep some of my dignity._

Tharja herself had declined to accompany Kiria to the war room. Such meetings, she claimed, were always terribly dull; and besides which she was under no obligation to travel with Kiria every step of the way. So long as Askr continued to function like an Idolasphere for their powers, Tharja had free rein to go wherever she willed – a fact that did little to set Kiria’s mind at ease. It was equally plausible, she supposed, that Tharja had planted a hex in Robin’s mind without Kiria’s knowledge or consent, and now Robin—or Tharja, pulling at Robin’s strings—had used the war room as an excuse to arrange a private session for just the two of them.

But if it was a dream, it was a very convincing one, and if Robin was hexed, there were none of the tell-tale signs of hexes that Kiria had learned to recognise throughout her partnership with Tharja. The war room was the same as it ever was, with the large central table, the maps of Askr and all the neighbouring kingdoms spread out across it, and the confusing overlap of colours representing different armies and units; and Robin, all alone, was dressed her usual way, wore her hair in her usual way, and studied the maps with her usual, focused expression.

She glanced up at Kiria as the door shut, and her smile made the singer’s heart flutter just a little.

“Kiria,” she said, pleasantly professional. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I hope I didn’t drag you away from anything.”

“Not at all.” Kiria wondered if she was staring at Robin a little too intensely, but tried to put it out of her mind. “I’m a little surprised I’m the only one here, though. Me and the rest of Fortuna—the people I arrived with—usually all work together…”

Robin nodded. “So I understand. But, as it happens, me and my… well, erm, let’s call him my _counterpart_ , to keep me from confusing myself… wanted to talk with each of you individually.” She folded away the maps, giving Kiria her full attention. “We always have to make sure we’re using the resources we have in the most efficient way possible, so we’ve trying to figure out the roles each of you might be able to fill. If the Order’s ever stretched thin—and it’s stretched thin a lot, unfortunately—we might not always have the luxury of keeping all of you in one unit.”

“I see.” Kiria crossed her arms, trying to focus on the girl’s words instead of her lips. “That’s a shame, but… I understand. I guess a variety of experiences among us _could_ make for some great songs – and we won’t be alone, anyway. We’ve all got our Mirages.”

Robin’s mouth hung open, as if hovering on a question.

“Yes, these Mirages,” she said. “They’re… quite unusual, aren’t they?”

The thought of Tharja flashed through Kiria’s mind, and she wondered if ‘unusual’ could have any more of an understatement.

“They’re powerful allies to have,” Kiria said. “There’s so much we don’t know about them, but they’re our partners all the same. Without them, we’d be… well, I can’t even imagine. They’re basically the source of our power in the Idolaspheres. And here too, I guess… for some reason.”

“So I’ve heard,” Robin said, smiling. “I’m glad to see it, actually. There’s all sorts of tactical advantages to fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with comrades – following up on attacks, reinforcing their defences… It’s a pity that the rest of the Order doesn’t seem to recognise the potential. You and your Mirages seem to have made it work, though.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘shoulder-to-shoulder’, exactly… but I get your point.”

“All the same, you trust in them, and that trust gives you strength. Am I right?”

Kiria paused. She did trust in Tharja, yes. But sometimes, she hadn’t the faintest idea why.

In the end, she settled for a nod. It seemed to satisfy Robin, who settled back into deliberation for a moment.

An inner voice that wasn’t entirely Kiria’s own couldn’t help but admire how cute Robin looked when she was so deep in thought; how her cheeks dimpled when her lips scrunched together; how it would be so easy for Kiria to step around the table and close the gap between them, to touch her face, to kiss her, to slip her tongue into that warm, inquisitive mouth, and to grind their bodies—

Kiria forced herself to look away. Her heart was pounding. She could feel the heat in her cheeks.

No. No, she wasn’t going to let Tharja get to her. She was in control of herself – her own feelings, her own desires.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Robin finally asked,” could you tell me a little more about them? If we’re going to involve them in our strategies, it’s best to know what they’re capable of.”

A polite, innocent request. A curious tactician evaluating her resources. There was nothing more to it than that. If this had been a dream, Tharja would have grown bored by now and sprung whatever perverted twist she had in mind.

Tharja was somewhere else. Kiria was in charge.

She took a deep, steadying breath, and managed to look Robin in the eyes.

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

The answer, Kiria quickly discovered, was ‘everything’. Nothing could have prepared her for the volume of questions that Robin had prepared, and for each one she answered, another two inquiries came her way. There were questions about the nature of the Mirages themselves, and the Performa—energy derived from a person’s own creativity—that drew them to humans, just as there were plenty of questions about all the different ways they took form as Carnages in battle to be wielded as weapons. There were even questions on the symbiotic relationship between Mirage and Mirage Master – the ways a bond could manifest in subtle ways, such as the potential to share of thoughts, emotions, and desires.

Robin’s questions were all strictly concerned with tactical applications on the battlefield. She’d had no idea, Kiria thought, just how relevant her last one had been.

“What I don’t quite understand,” Robin admitted, towards what Kiria could only assume was the end, “is their identities. For all intents and purposes, some of them share names—even appearances—with other members of the Order. And not just the Order; the Shepherds from my world, too. Strange, alternate versions of people I know who _look_ different… but act the same, when all’s said and done. When I spoke with your friend Itsuki, Chrom was… well, he looked a little fiercer than usual, but he was still Chrom – awkwardness and all. Virion’s still Virion, and that’s all that needs to be said for him… and then, of course, there’s…”

Another pause. Then Robin shook her head and smiled again.

“Sorry. Fascinating a mystery as it is, it’s not important to our meeting here. I still have a few more questions, if that’s alright.”

As promised, more questions came, and Kiria answered each one dutifully. But at some point while answering them, she’d stopped paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth.

It wasn’t because she was bored, or had other places to be. Kiria—the Kiria who had worked alongside the rest of Fortuna Entertainment in Tokyo, and who wanted nothing more than to protect this world as she’d protected her own—was happy to answer anything Robin wanted. If their powers as idols, silly as it sounded spelled out, could actually help the Order of Heroes, then she’d gladly contribute what she knew.

Something else in darkest corners of her mind had pulled her attention away. That inner voice. It echoed through her head with a low, lustful chuckle, running its eyes all over Robin’s body and drinking in her curves, her breasts, her soft, delicate features. How good she looked, it murmured. How beautiful she was.

With every question ticked off and shelved away, Kiria’s arousal was steadily building. Images from her dreams flashed in her mind.

Robin on her knees, naked and begging.

Robin moaning and panting as Kiria kissed all over her body.

Robin tied up and ravished by Tharja’s – no, by _Kiria’s_ own hands.

Robin. Robin. Robin.

The name echoed in her mind like a mantra; a chant whispered in that same voice, a voice so much like her own…

Was this really how Tharja felt about her? This obsession? This longing? This desire?

Where had it all come from? It was depraved, it was insatiable – but it was also slightly sad. Desperate. Kiria could fill whole stadiums with adoring fans, but Tharja had no-one. No-one but Kiria and the object of her inexplicable desires. It felt like her whole world might have fallen apart without Robin—any Robin—returning her affection.

Yes, there was actually affection. Somewhere beneath all Tharja’s hungry lust and her unhealthy fixation, Kiria could feel earnest feelings brewing inside her.

That wasn’t to say that the lust wasn’t overpowering those tender feelings, or that it was easy for Kiria to stop undressing Robin with her mind.

“…And that, I think, should conclude my questions for now,” Robin finished, smiling warmly. “I hope I haven’t been too overwhelming.”

Oh, she was overwhelming, alright.

There was that voice again, soft and crooning. A gentle nudge.

“Kiss her, my sweet, lovely Kiria. Show her how much she means to us. The rest will all come naturally from there…”

Kiria swallowed, staring at Robin. At some point during their conversation, she’d strolled around the table to stand in front of the tactician. Had it been in the natural flow of conversation, or had that, too, been Tharja’s doing?

Robin was so close. All Kiria needed to do was lean in a little…

“Kiria?” Robin asked, tilting her head. “Is something the matter? You look quite… out of sorts.”

Kiria faltered, conflicted – and quick as a flash, Tharja’s desires took over. Before Robin could get another word in, the idol lunged forward and seized the other girl in a kiss.

Time went still. Kiria’s rational mind—the mind Tharja hadn’t worked her influence so thoroughly over—screamed out that this was wrong, that this was all Tharja, that this wasn’t her.

Her less rational mind was amazed that Robin, just like in her dreams, really did taste of peaches.

Robin was stiff in her arms, completely motionless. For several long moments, she didn’t move a muscle.

Then, a hand came up to Kiria’s face, cupping her cheek. A soft hand. A warm hand. A hand that wasn’t pushing her away.

Finally, Robin drew back, saliva stringing from her lips to Kiria’s. Her expression wasn’t angry, or confused, or scared – not was it lustful or mindless, as she’d always looked in Kiria’s dreams.

Instead, it was gentle. Familiar. A tinge of exasperation, but tempered by amusement – like she was looking into the eyes of a friend.

“You know,” she murmured, gently scolding, “from the moment Kiria explained to me how a Mirage’s thoughts and feelings could cross into their partner, and vice versa… I was worried you might have been slightly too much for anyone to handle. But I think you ought to loosen your grip on her a little, Tharja.”

Tharja?

She knew?

Still holding Kiria close, Robin turned her head, looking back toward the rest of the war room.

“And, if you’re anything like your lookalikes… you’ve probably been in here all this time, too – haven’t you?”

Kiria heard a deep, delighted giggle echo through the room, and it took her a moment to realise it was coming from her own throat. Then the sound spread from her mouth all the way to the walls around them, louder and louder, as Tharja’s voice filled the room.

“Ah, my dear, precious Robin… I’m impressed. You’re so smart. So wonderfully smart…”

In an instant, Kiria felt her senses sweep back into her – and she suddenly recoiled as, peering over Robin’s shoulder, she saw Tharja now hovering in the corner, the lips beneath her mask curled up in a wicked grin.

“Hee hee hee… Oh, you caught me,” Tharja said. “And here I was, so content to sit back and let my darling Kiria enjoy herself… Well, that’s not exactly true. I’ve never been content to do _nothing_.”

“T-Tharja?” Kiria stammered. “What—why…?”

She was fully conscious of just how close she’d been to Robin; just how gentle Robin’s grip had been; just how wonderful Robin’s lips had tasted. Thoughts that lingered even after she’d regained her wits.

Robin turned to Tharja, her expression slightly sterner. “Now, Tharja – I think you owe the both of us an explanation.”

Tharja chuckled again, as if losing herself in some kind of delirious bliss. “Oh, it’s quite simple. Kiria’s been working so very hard for your little Order, and I knew she deserved a reward of some kind. So I thought to myself, ‘Tharja, what would be the greatest gift you could give your adorable master?’ And the answer was obvious. I would give her a night with you, my dear Robin.”

“Of course you would,” Robin said. Her tone didn’t register the slightest bit of surprise.

The Mirage drifted between the two of them, floating behind Kiria and taking her into a gentle embrace.

“But,” Tharja continued, stroking Kiria’s face while gazing at Robin, “she was so resistant to the idea—so unconcerned for her own wellbeing—that I was forced to stoke the fires of passion in her… I gave her such sweet dreams that she simply couldn’t help but crave your touch just that little bit more.”

Kiria glared up at her. “You wanted to use a hex. I said that was wrong.”

Another chuckle, softer than the last. “Oh, Kiria. I would never _really_ hex my Robin. She’s too precious for that. Hex my enemies, yes; place a naughty little hex on my allies from time to time, without hesitation – but Robin’s adoration is so much lovelier when it’s genuine.”

She leaned closer, whispering into her ear.

“All I wanted was to give you the confidence to seek her out, believing she was already yours… and letting the superstar Kiria work her natural charm from there. She’s so easily flustered; so wonderfully submissive… Even the slightest bit of flirting would have made her weak. And besides, _unnatural_ love has such a… bitter taste to it. It revolts me.”

Kiria paused, and felt something catch in her throat.

If that had been Tharja’s plan, then it wasn’t much better. It still rode on the assumption that Kiria would have agreed to a hex; would have gone against her principles; would have sought Robin out and seduced her for fun. And, most of all, that her ‘natural charm’ wouldn’t have scared Robin away from her for life.

But she was right in one thing. There was nothing good to be found in love created through hexes or manipulation. And she could feel the sincerity in the Mirage’s words; she felt it just as intensely as all the lust and affection still soaking through from Tharja’s heart.

Robin, far from being disturbed by what Tharja was saying, seemed completely accustomed to it. Instead, she was only looking at Tharja and Kiria with that same, adorably thoughtful look on her face.

Then, she smiled.

“Honestly, Tharja. Wrapping up your partner in your own desires, playing games with her heart, cooking up schemes to win me over… You’re definitely _Tharja_ , alright.”

Tharja seemed to take it as a compliment, breaking into another giggle.

“I’m sorry about all this, Kiria,” Robin said. “It probably goes without saying for you, but she really can be a nuisance, can’t she?”

“You’re telling me. She can be weird, and creepy, and gross…”

She felt Tharja’s hands slide further around her, strangely warm next to her usual chill.

“…But she still cares for me,” Kiria admitted. “Even with all the pressures of performing, and keeping up my reputation, and not letting the Order of Heroes down… she wants what’s best for me. In her strange ways.”

Robin’s smile turned almost impressed. “I’ll be honest, I never thought I’d see Tharja working so well with someone else. I suppose that’s the bond between Mirage and Mirage Master in action… I should make some notes on that…”

“Oh, darling,” Tharja chuckled. “Always so studious, even now. But I have a much better idea than all that long-winded writing.”

The arms around Kiria gently urged her forward, and she stepped towards Robin. As she approached, catching the tactician’s scent and seeing the gloss on her lips, Kiria could feel desire flooding her heart again – but this time it was interlaced with her own feelings.

Robin, as Tharja had pointed out all those nights ago, was hopelessly cute. Everything from her white twintails to her sparkling eyes to her dorky ramblings on tactics and bonds just made Kiria want to hold her tight and squeeze her cheeks – and, if she’d let her, maybe a few other things, too.

“A practical demonstration of our ‘bonds’,” the Mirage murmured, voice dripping with lust. “A live, joint performance from the famous Kiria and her partner… with you, my wonderful Robin, as the star of the show.”

There was a long, slow moment as Robin stared from Kiria to Tharja, then from Tharja to Kiria; and her disbelief gave way to cautious curiosity.

“Kiria,” she said at last. “Is that what you want, too?”

Kiria couldn’t be sure if Tharja’s feelings were still clouding her better judgement. She couldn’t be sure if she was just getting swept up in all the different sensations – Robin’s scent, the taste of her lips, the way her features were just the sort of cute that Kiria, in spite of her public image, had never been able to resist.

But Robin had asked so gently, so patiently for her answer. This wasn’t like her dreams, where everything had been rushed and frenzied and tinged with an uncomfortable feeling of depravity. This was real – in every sense of the word.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to put on her usual air of cool confidence. “I guess I wouldn’t mind putting on a show… if you’re up for it.”

Robin nodded slowly, thoughtfully. She sighed for a moment, as if accepting her fate, then smiled again.

“I think I’m starting to get a little too lenient towards your antics, Tharja.”

She tugged at the cord tying her robe together, and a moment later it fell to the floor around her feet. Her glove came to rest on Kiria’s cheek again, and she drew closer to the idol.

 _God,_ said an inner voice that was unquestionably Kiria’s own, _she really is cute. If Ms. Maiko were here, she’d be snapped up for Fortuna in the blink of an eye…_

“Not quite how I imagined this strategy meeting going,” she admitted in a low whisper, “but sometimes, it’s best to just… let Tharja get it all out of her system.”

Kiria’s lips turned into an idle smirk. “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Their lips met in a gentle kiss – and Tharja, lurking just behind Kiria, let out a sound of delight.

“You see, darling? She wants you. Everyone wants you. You’re a star – you’re Kiria. _The_ Kiria…”

Something in Tharja’s words stirred a sense of pride in Kiria, and she grew bolder. She ran her tongue along Robin’s lower lip, coaxing her into opening her mouth before slipping her tongue inside in a fashion that was perhaps slightly too aggressive. But Robin didn’t seem to mind – and Tharja, by the heady, lustful sounds she was making, was more than enjoying the show.

“Hee hee hee… That’s it. That’s perfect… My sweet Kiria and my darling Robin… Oh, they’re so cute… So cute together… I want to join in so badly… but I’ll wait. I’ll wait right here until it’s my turn. You two just have fun until then… Hee hee…”

That voice—utterly sweet and yet utterly twisted—was enough to send a shudder of anticipation through Kiria’s body.

* * *

Everything that had once lined the war room’s table—the maps, the unit markers, the leftover tankards from previous meetings—had been swept to the side. In their place, Kiria pressed down on Robin’s naked body, with the tactician’s legs wrapping tightly around her waist. Her hips rocked in time with Kiria’s fingers, and she squealed so loudly with every thrust.

It was a good thing, Kiria thought, that Tharja had sealed the door and silenced the room with a spell.

All those dreams had given Kiria plenty of practice. She was accustomed to the taste of Robin’s lips, the feeling of her skin; and she knew exactly where to touch her, how to move her fingers, how to coax those lovely sounds out of the tactician.

“Gods, you’re good at this,” Robin whined, her fingers running through Kiria’s hair. “I can see how you’re so – a-ah…!”

Kiria cut her off, thrusting her fingers deeper and twisting them just enough to cause Robin’s hips to jerk upward.

“Do you like that?” she whispered, feeling her cool confidence return in full force.

“I… Oh, yes…”

Kiria grinned and kissed the girl again. Then, she added a third finger.

“Ah…!” Robin yelped. “W-wait… I can’t…!”

“I’m sure you can. I’ll go slow.”

Kiria had seen Robin endure much worse in her dreams, and they hadn’t failed her so far. Or maybe that had just been Tharja’s way of encouraging her to push Robin beyond her limits.

It was time to find out.

The idol bit her lip and worked her fingers inside Robin, sliding them in and out with the same slow, deliberate motion as before. She bent forward to capture Robin’s lips in another kiss, allowing her to moan into her mouth.

Without the robes and the strategies and the air of responsibility, Robin was so unbearably cute. Her body writhed against the table, and the noises she made were sweet and desperate.

“K-Kiria…”

Kiria smiled as her fingers kept moving. “Yes?”

“More… Please…”

Her smile grew, and she imitated that thoughtful expression Robin wore so often. “Would you like me to go faster… or harder?”

“Both. Please, both.”

Kiria obliged in full, plunging her fingers into Robin at a rapid pace and pushing her closer and closer to the brink.

Her fingers weren’t the only ones picking up speed. Hovering in the corner, watching the pair of them with a lascivious grin, Tharja worked herself with wild abandon.

“Hee hee hee… Gods, you two look good together,” the Mirage sighed, drenched in her own anticipation. “Oh, I can’t wait…”

Somehow, the faint awareness of Tharja’s presence only drove Kiria to new heights. She pushed into Robin harder and faster, hitting that special spot again and again in just the right way to make her moan uncontrollably.

“Y-you’re…! Ah, Gods… You’re going to get me to… to…!”

Kiria was relentless, and as Robin cried out, her hands grabbed at the edge of the war table, desperate to hold on to her senses. But it was no use. Kiria had been doing this almost every night for a month in Tharja’s perfectly-staged practice rounds, and it showed in Robin’s expression.

“I… I can’t… I’m—”

“Do it,” Tharja chuckled, stroking herself furiously. “Come for us, my darling.”

As Kiria’s fingers kept working their magic, Robin’s voice took on an entirely different—but all too familiar—quality. She cried out in a mixture of passion and desperation, begging and pleading incoherently.

Then, just as Tharja had commanded, she came. Her legs kicked and thrashed around Kiria’s waist, and she might have bucked her off entirely had the idol not been keeping her pinned down.

“Ah…! Gods – _Kiria_ …!”

Robin’s toes curled and her body shook, and Kiria held on for dear life as the girl twisted beneath her, working her all the way to the end of her climax. She was so focused on servicing Robin that she hadn’t noticed Tharja drifting towards the table – and felt her heart leap out of her chest in surprise as the Mirage’s wet fingers brushed across Robin’s lips. Her tongue slipped out, taking the fingers into her mouth and sucking them clean until her body finally collapsed against the table, spent.

“Oh, Kiria… If you weren’t so dear to me, I’d be jealous – making my lovely Robin scream like that.”

Tharja ran her hands down Robin’s nude body as it quivered against the table, the silk of her sleeves seeming to form a cloak all of their own. She leaned in close, her lips pulled back in a grin, and gave the girl’s neck a long, sensual kiss. Robin, still conscious enough to respond, whimpered as the Mirage continued to play with her body; and from the way Kiria saw her legs glisten in the pale light, the afterglow of her release was quickly giving way to another round of aching lust.

“But we’re not finished here yet,” Tharja said, her voice even huskier than usual. “Are we, Kiria?”

Kiria crossed her arms. “Of course not. For a ‘joint performance’, we haven’t done much to show our bond…”

“Hee hee… Oh, that little pretence? Well, I didn’t think it was necessary… but maybe you’re right. Maybe our adorable Robin deserves to see something truly special…”

They paused for a moment, as if deciding on an unspoken plan – then, before Robin could so much as look at them, they made their move. Tharja and Kiria slid up Robin’s body in unison, the girl gasping and shuddering in absolute bliss as their hands ran all over her body. Tharja took Robin’s left nipple into her mouth, Kiria took the right – and with all the synchronisation of one of Kiria’s dances with Tsubasa, their hands slid across the girl’s stomach and up to her chest in perfectly mirrored motions, then back down towards her drenched folds.

“Gods,” Robin gasped. “You two – y-your movements are…”

“Don’t speak,” Tharja purred, gently pressing a finger against the girl’s lips – and Kiria found herself automatically doing the same. “Just feel. That’s what you want to see, isn’t it…? The unity between a Mirage and her lovely master…”

Robin swallowed, then nodded – and both Tharja and Kiria, as one, slid their fingers deep into her body, tongues flicking her breasts with precisely the same motions, the same rhythm, the same love and lust and affection and desire that joined their minds as one.

Kiria and Tharja weren’t all the same. They had different outlooks, different demeanours, different preferences. But the strength of their bond wasn’t founded on similarities – it was founded on their unity in spite of all their differences. And here, in pleasing Robin, they were united. Even when Tharja felt so alone, Robin’s body was a stage on which both of them could shine.

Their heads moved up to meet Robin’s, fingers moving in tandem between her legs all the while, and their three tongues all entwined together; a mess of intense, unadulterated lust that their poured into their shared lover.

There with Robin, Kiria noticed, Tharja had never felt warmer, or looked happier. There with Robin, Tharja showed a tenderness she had never afforded anyone else – not even Kiria.

And she was glad for her. More than glad; she felt it all as if it were her own. As Tharja's heart eased and let Robin in, so too did all Kiria's worries and stress—feelings that had been steadily mounting for so long now—just seem to melt away.

Maybe that had been Tharja's intent from the start. The sight of Robin made Tharja happy, and making Robin feel good made her feel happier still; and all that happiness pooled together in a dizzying rush of relief for Kiria.

Tharja giggled under her breath, ecstatic. “What do you think, Robin…? Isn’t the bond between me and Kiria just wonderful…? Can’t you feel how much you mean to us? To me…?”

Robin couldn’t answer in words – but it was obvious enough from her body what she thought of it. Kiria—or was it Tharja who had initiated it?—smirked with satisfaction, and the expression was echoed by her partner.

When Robin came, both Kiria and Tharja felt it at once: the flood of emotion, the releasee of tension, and the hot, sticky splash of Robin’s fluids all over their hands. They held on until she was done, tenderly cleaning her up with her hands and mouths, then let her rest against the table again as her trembling subsided.

Robin breathed heavily, a sweet smile spread across her face, and it was a moment before she was capable of forming a coherent sentence.

“That was…” She shuddered. “Wow. That’s quite the bond you share…”

“Isn’t it just?” Tharja chuckled, brushing her lips along Robin’s ear. “And we’re all yours, Robin. Yours to command on the battlefield, yours to mould and shape… and yours to play with however and whenever you wish.”

“Me and Tharja can have our disagreements,” Kiria said, “but when it comes to performances like that… it’s just like you said, Robin. Everyone’s at their best—whether they’re on the stage or fighting battles—when they’re together with the people they trust. There’s strength in unity. And much, much more, besides…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that. My own lack of familiarity with TMS notwithstanding (read: grabbing most of my Kiria character context from her side stories and Heroes content alone) I hope it at least made for an enjoyable read.
> 
> Somehow, the next request I'm eyeing up on my list might turn out even smuttier than this one... though since I'm slowly but surely reaching the end of that list again, any new requests or ideas for F/F rarepairs are always more than welcome.


End file.
